


Head

by rudbeckia



Series: Random Worlds [6]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Character, M/M, OOC and IDC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 19:05:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11492763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudbeckia/pseuds/rudbeckia
Summary: Set straight after the previous fic in this series, in which Ben is a bodybuilder and Armitage is a personal trainer.If you missed it, start here withTrainwhich is part one of this silly little trilogy.In part three:Armitage goes back to Ben's house with him but things don't go the way either of them hoped. Will a second date be any better?





	Head

It was difficult to sustain a kiss mostly composed of giggles. Armitage felt light, light of body, light of head and light of spirit. Ben held him, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, broad hands on Armitage’s lower back, checking wordlessly if it was okay to press against him. Armitage pulled close, fitting their hips together comfortably.  
“We can _touch,_ just don’t do anything more. No hands, nothing deliberate and no _oops I didn’t mean to stick that there_ shit. I can tell. Even if I get hard, hands off.”  
“What if I get it wrong?” Ben spoke with quiet concern. “This is new to me. I’ve never been with anyone who didn’t want me to get them off before.”  
Armitage kissed Ben’s cheek. “I’ll warn you. Can I give you a shower and a massage?”  
“Mmhmm,” Ben groaned once and pushed Armitage slightly away. “Happy ending?”  
“Ha! If you like.” Armitage laughed. “I would like to see what kind of face you pull when your cock is in my mouth.”  
“Fuck.” Ben took a step back and looked down. “You mention giving head and my dick says yes please before my brain catches up. I thought—” Ben shook his head. “Nevermind.”  
“What is it?” Armitage asked. “I’d prefer you just said if you had a problem.”  
“I don’t get it. I thought you wanted to take things slowly but you just offered me one of my fantasies.”

Armitage also took a step back, grabbed his hastily discarded sweater and aimed a cock-withering scowl at Ben.  
“Did you understand _anything_ I just told you?” He sighed. “I suppose not. I don’t want to _take things slowly._ I am not suddenly going to want your hands or your mouth on my cock or your cock in my arse. I will _never_ want that. I am, however, amenable to putting a smile on your stupid, ugly face, although I’m getting to like the idea less the more I worry that you might pressure me to accept payment in kind.”  
“Wait! I’m sorry.” Armitage paused with his sweater around his neck and his head mostly poking through. He blinked a couple of times and Ben suppressed a giggle.  
“What’s so funny?” Armitage snapped at Ben. Ben sniggered.  
“You look like a big ginger turtle. Please stay. I don’t expect you to do anything you don’t want to do. I guess I just don’t want to seem selfish, you know, taking and not giving. My last boyfriend was very clear on that point.”  
Armitage huffed and pulled the sweater on properly then reached for his leggings. He shook out his hair and combed it back with his fingers. “So.” He raised his eyebrows. “You have a fantasy about me sucking you off?”  
“Mmhmm,” Ben hummed. “Ever since I saw you in the showers. And in my fantasy I _never_ do anything back. Please stay.”

Armitage stood for a moment with clenched fists and worried at his lower lip, then shook his head. “No. I have to be in the right mood and now I’m not. I’ll call a taxi and go. You probably don’t have any decent massage oil anyway.”  
Ben pulled his sweats back on and waited for Armitage to finish calling his cab. He shrugged. “I don’t know. What sort of oil do you need? I use one-cal spray sunflower with garlic and chili.”  
Ben grinned and Armitage hooted with laughter at him.  
“You’d smell like a stir-fry!”

Safe at home, Armitage showered, heated a ready meal and put on Netflix. He checked his phone but there was no message from Ben, no _hey I like you but…_ and no _maybe I’m the right guy if you let me…_ or _what’s wrong with…_ to make him turn cold and shut down his thoughts and feelings about Ben Solo. That was something, at least. He was paying little attention to the TV, halfway through his microwaved chicken balti, when his phone beeped. The lock screen banner said it was from Ben. Armitage turned his phone face down and concentrated in the rest of the episode. He finished his meal, washed up although he’d eaten from the plastic tray so there wasn’t much to do, made a pot of tea and went back to his sofa before he looked at the message.

 _Hey monkey-boy! Which one of these should I get?_  
The rest of the message was a link to a selection of expensive aromatherapy massage oils and a link to a picture of a golden marmoset. Armitage almost wept in relief and replied with a recommendation for lavender to keep at home, rosemary to bring to the gym and something with sandalwood, ylang-ylang and rose as a gift for _someone you might know._

Ben replied a few minutes later.  
_Cool! I got all three next day delivery. Can I come over? Just to hang out?_  
Armitage typed _yes_ then paused and deleted it.  
_Not tonight. Come to the gym tomorrow and let me laugh at your useless arms._  
As an afterthought he sent a link to a picture of a gorilla scratching its arse.  
_Hey I thought you deleted that sexy picture of me! I’m working late so it’ll be after nine._

It was almost closing time when Ben arrived and scanned his card. The man called Dopheld hovered with his antibacterial spray and cloth near a couple of clients still using the cardio machines. The statuesque blonde Ben had come to know was called Phasma tidied up the free weights, retrieving stray equipment from where untidy members had left it and arranging the weights in size order in their racks. Ben would have been tempted to go rearrange them just to annoy the woman but, as Armitage had predicted and laughed at over the phone that morning, his arms simply didn’t work right today. _It’s not fucking funny! I can’t even grip my phone!_ Ben had complained, to Armitage’s raucous delight.

Armitage spied him on the security cameras and came out of his office. Ben swept him into a hug and planted a kiss on his cheek. Somewhere behind him, Phasma snorted. Ben rummaged in his bag.  
“I got you something. Hold on.” He produced an extravagantly gift wrapped package with pink cellophane and curly ribbons and a shower of foil hearts bobbing on fine, springy wire. Phasma dropped all pretence, pointed and laughed openly. Armitage went red. Ben shrugged. “I asked for premium gift wrap. I didn’t know that meant _this._ Anyway, here.”  
Ben thrust the gift at Armitage, who took it in both hands. He grinned at Ben and told Phasma to fuck off and check the changing rooms for stray clients. Armitage beckoned Ben into his office and closed the door.  
“Thank you. May I open it?” Armitage shook the gift and the foil hearts tinkled.  
“That’s a supremely fucking stupid question.” Ben grinned. “Of course you may, unless you just want to admire it or,” he leaned forward and crinkled the cellophane between his fingers, lowering his voice to a seductive murmur, “touch it now and then.”  
“Arsehole,” said Armitage, but smiled and pulled at the ribbon. “Oh!” He laughed as he picked out the contents. One large bottle of _Erotica_ massage oil and a packet of fruit flavoured condoms. “What a very thoughtful gift. How are your arms now?”  
“Oh, they _definitely_ need a massage.”  
“Hmm. Not here. My place is nearby.”

 

0548: _Good morning! Reply when you see this._  
0731: _…You let me sleep in!_  
0733: _Looked like you needed it. Borrow anything you need. I keep stuff in obvious places._  
0746: _…found your porn_  
0747: _Liar!_  
0747: _…no really where do you keep it_  
0748: _In my head. I‘m imagining comatose beefcake right now._  
0750: _…ugh sorry when did I fall asleep?_  
0754: _When I was doing your lats, I think. You looked so sweet. Sounded like an angel sawing wood._  
0758: _…I finished your frosted flakes & they were grrrreat can’t believe you eat that crap_  
0800: _…or half the shit in your fridge no wonder you look like a starving meerkat you need some actual food_  
0823: _…did I upset you?_  
0845: _I was in a meeting._  
0847: _…Come for dinner tonight if you can get away. I’ll cook._  
0859: _I can be there around eight._  
0901: _…cool I’ll make stir fry_

Armitage grinned at his phone. Phasma, watching from the safety of the reception desk, nudged Dopheld who had ventured behind the desk in search of a spare clipboard while his client drank tea and drummed her fingers. He looked up and screwed his eyes half-shut in an attempt to focus through the mirror-striped glass window of Armitage’s office.  
“What’s the general so happy about?”  
“Have you not noticed?” Phasma leaned close. “He’s in luuurve with Ben the Body.”  
“Oh fuck,” replied Dopheld. “I hope this one lasts or we’re in for a cold winter.”


End file.
